Miss Match
by SecretLifeofWords
Summary: Miss Match: Brittany Pierce is a dancer with a dark past that can't seem to catch a break. Santana Lopez is a matchmaker who is unlucky in love and licking her wounds after a recent break-up. When a wedding brings these two women together in an unexpected way, they find themselves questioning if they can over come their pasts to have a future. #Brittana #HappyWeddingAnniversary


Hey! In honor of Brittana's wedding anniversary, I decided to post a little of my upcoming novel- out in May 2016. Leave a comment or review if you want more!

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Chapter One

Brittany Pierce had crossed and uncrossed her legs a dozen times in the past thirty minutes. She doodled on the pad in front of her for a moment as Richard Thomas wrapped up his presentation.

"Any questions?"

"Comments, actually." Brittany, the first woman to be appointed the head of advertising and marketing for Clear View Enterprises, Inc., raised an eyebrow at Richard, making sure he could see her disappointment before she voiced it. She knew that Richard loathed working for a woman, especially one younger than him. He was one of the loudest grumbles when she came into her new position and his lack of preparation for this presentation clearly demonstrated the glaring absence of respect for her intelligence. "This is the same projected plan you had for the Devereux commission last month, isn't it? This client warrants a more aggressive marketing structure to pursue its higher-end consumer population. How will your recycled, passive approach serve an office full of sharks?"

Brian Edgars coughed to her right, flipping through his notes quickly. Undoubtedly checking to see if Brittany was correct in her criticism of Richard's proposal. He frowned at his notebook, obviously not liking what he found. She liked that Brian was so reliably thorough. He was a generation older than her with years more experience, but he had been one of very few who had embraced without hesitation her promotion and the direction with which she was taking Clear View. She respected Brian's opinion and knew he believed in the structural changes she was implementing. It was nice to have a confidant in a sea of naysayers.

"I think the general scheme would suffice for Levonbaum and Carlyle," Richard answered, narrowing his gaze and focusing just to the right of her eyes, "with a few adjustments of course."

"Why don't you try your final pitch again," Brittany said, standing abruptly. "Claire will help you iron out whatever details you may need."

The ten other men and women in the room begin to pack up their things as Brittany's heels clicked closer to the exit of the conference room. She glanced back once to flash a quick smile to a blushing Claire Moseley, just one of a few handpicked employees that she knew would absolutely flourish with the right direction and nurturing. Claire was a little younger than Brittany, in her late twenties, with shoulder-length auburn hair and a quick wit. Brittany had quickly promoted the junior executive after observing her dynamic and tenacious interaction with Richard on a particularly challenging client case a few months earlier. What really impressed her about Claire though was the way she handled Richard's intimidation and bullying at the end of the meeting when he thought everyone was out of earshot. As an unseen observer, Brittany's chest swelled with pride when Claire easily sidestepped his antagonistic comments about her perceived lack of experience with a series of well-volleyed retorts and sarcasm. It was a shame the rest of the marketing execs missed the learning experience.

Brittany smiled to herself as she walked through the corridor toward her office. She was eager to be done with the Richards of this place: stuck-up, self-consumed, and bigoted little shits left from the old regime.

Her assistant met her at her office door with a hot coffee and a yogurt. Amanda had worked with Brittany for almost five years, easily transitioning to the increased responsibility with every promotion Brittany had earned. Without Amanda, Brittany wasn't sure she could juggle it all—Amanda made sure Brittany never missed a meeting, a workout, or a paper clip. She placed everything on Brittany's enormous desk and asked how the morning's meeting went.

"The usual, Amanda. Boring. But thank you for the coffee." Brittany smiled as she settled into her chair, powering up her laptop. Today was Amanda's first wedding anniversary. Brittany fondly remembered the first and only time Amanda was late to work—she had floated into the office in a dreamy haze, announcing she had met the love of her life at a bus stop in the rain. It warmed Brittany's heart to see Amanda still so in love after all this time even if it made her wonder if she would ever find such happiness. "I think I'm all set for the rest of today's meetings, so why don't you take the rest of the day off?"

"Are you sure?"

Brittany chuckled to herself before opening her bottom left drawer and pulling out a bottle of champagne with a decorative gold ribbon around the neck. "I'm sure. Here, this is for you and Tom. Have a good night, okay?"

Amanda nodded quickly, taking the bottle from Brittany and forcing a quick hug on her contact was unexpected, and Brittany patted her awkwardly before Amanda broke away, thanking her again for the free afternoon.

Brittany let out a content sigh before returning to the project outlines and photographs of a new client's building specs that were patiently waiting on her desktop for her attention. Hours later, Brian knocked at her door as she began packing up at the end of the day.

"You are mighty popular with some, Miss Pierce," he teased gently as he closed the door behind himself, before sitting on one of the chairs in front of her desk. "And not so much with others."

"Can't win 'em all, Edgars," she replied coolly but with a small smile, happy to have a chance to chat with Brian about the meeting earlier. "What's up?"

"I was curious about your pairing of Claire and Richard."

She looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to continue.

"We both know that Richard is an entitled ass, but this client is a relatively big fish and he has much more experience working this type of crowd than Claire does. Aren't you worried that assigning Claire as co-lead will exacerbate the already rocky office dynamics?"

"It's time people get comfortable with the idea that I'm not going to tolerate subpar performance. Claire has more intuition in her pinky finger than Richard has in his whole body. This is a good opportunity for her to flex her muscles and really get involved on a high-priority client. I expect great things from her."

"And this is why you're the new chief. I'm interested to see their final pitch." Brian nodded as he stood slowly, calling behind him as he closed the door, "Have a good night, Brittany."

Brittany leaned back in her desk chair, slouching low enough to rest her new Louboutin heels on the expansive oak desk in front of her. The sunset perfectly illuminated the Boston skyline, casting shadows in harmony with deep orange hues, making a beautifully haunting portrait of her metropolitan playground. Her corner office had floor-to-ceiling windows on two of its sides, which, if she stood close enough to the glass, made her feel like she was standing in the sky, not limited by the confines of gravity or her mortality.

As the last sliver of orange slipped beneath the skyline, a memory of Dominic crept into her thoughts. Nothing in particular incited such recollections: sometimes it was a smell, a sound, the texture of a fabric, a perfectly trimmed goatee. Her exchanges with Brian of late brought memories of Dominic to the forefront of her mind. No matter how good a friend Brian had been during these transitional months, she missed her best friend. Dominic's unexpected and sudden death had devastated her in more ways than just derailing her professional dance career. He was the brother she never had, the one who had rescued her from the foster system by teaching her to direct her pain into dance—Dominic had helped Brittany find an identity. He gave her some stability. He probably saved her life. It was no surprise that she struggled to form relationships with people following his death—both personal and professional ones.

Brian was the closest thing she had to a friend these days, but he was no substitute for Dominic. How badly she wanted to pick up the phone and tell him all about her feisty new junior executive and how much she hated the way Richard sort of made eye contact with her ear when he addressed her. She could almost hear his carefree laugh in response to the conversation she was desperate to have with him. What she would give to have one more moment instead of just a memory.

Her phone rang loudly, catching her off guard.

"Hey, Brit. How are you?"

She could hear the smile in her little sister's voice. "Hi. I'm good. You excited?"

"Yeah, maybe a little nervous too." Connie paused before asking nervously, "You're going to be there, right?" She sounded more concerned about Brittany actually showing up to the wedding than at the prospect of being married.

"Of course! I wouldn't miss your wedding for anything in the world. I promise." Brittany's reply was confident but she was less than thrilled at the prospect of dealing with all the emotions this event would likely stir up. Connie and Dominic had been her world for as long as she could remember, and Connie growing up and getting married was never something she thought she would have to experience without Dominic by her side. Life was moving on without him, and she sort of hated it.

"Good. Okay, I have to go do rehearsal stuff, see you soon!"

"Bye, Connie."

Brittany adjusted her skirt as she stood and closed her laptop, then shuffled the photos into their folders, effectively ending her long day. She frowned as she shrugged on her tailored blazer, realizing that her fridge was empty and thus, nothing was waiting to quell the angry rumble of her stomach when she got home. "Well, takeout it is, I guess," she mumbled to herself as she packed her bag and walked to her office door, glancing back once before flicking off the light and closing the door.

#

"Ms. Lopez." Claudette Frost's sneer was as legendary as her love of old money. "I expect better results for the money we are dumping into this ludicrous company."

"Mrs. Frost," Santana Lopez replied with her utmost diplomacy, although it was wearing thin, "you need to understand that I can only bring the women to Alec—he has to be the one to make the connection. I can't do it for him."

Alec Frost was a typical wealthy playboy searching for someone to drag to his boring society family dinners: tall, handsome, and filthy rich, but with a hot temper and a propensity for womanizing and hard partying. Finding someone he liked physically wasn't hard: tall, blond, and thin. Most of the women Santana set him up with were eager for the life of leisure his money promised, but everyone had a breaking point, and his antagonistic nature coupled with his short fuse eventually landed eight crying women in her office.

She frowned, trying to retain her professional timbre. "He has to meet me halfway if he ever expects to get further than a half dozen dates with these girls."

"Really, it's a wonder you came so highly recommended to me," Claudette scoffed. "Obviously, you and Mr. Hummel have been mismanaging Alec's female prospects."

"I understand your frustration, really I do." Santana turned to address Alec directly, who up until this point was distractedly playing with his phone. "We'll try one more time, Alec, but please, stick to the plan we lay out for you. The system works, but you have to follow the guidelines."

Alec glanced up from his phone. "Maybe if you gave me something to work with, I could actually get somewhere with one of them."

Santana had reached her quota of insults from this family. "You know what, Alec," she snarled, "why don't you—"

Kurt Hummel appeared in the doorway of her office and interrupted before Santana had a chance to give them a piece of her mind. "Why don't you let us give you a call next week with another list of ladies and a plan for a mixer meet-and-greet, free of charge."

Claudette stood, smoothing out her Chanel pantsuit and pulling Alec from his slouch to a standing position as she glared at Kurt. "Make this one count." She punctuated her statement with an angry gesture to Kurt and Santana before she stormed out and dragged her overgrown brat behind her.

It took Santana a good twenty minutes to calm down after they left. Her leisurely stroll to get coffee next door turned into an hour-long retail therapy trip that did nothing to calm her throbbing head but did result in the acquisition of two lovely pairs of Jimmy Choos and a pair of Prada sunglasses that begged her to take them home. Back at her desk, she contemplated her purchases with satisfaction.

"Santana?" Her partner's annoyed voice called from his office, echoing through the now-empty conference room separating him from her.

"Yes, Kurt," she replied sweetly, hoping to suppress the building irritation she could sense in his tone.

He leaned against her door frame, half-hidden behind a large box filled with files and papers. "Santana, seriously, what gives?"

"You'll have to be more specific. I'm obviously involved in a few things here." She motioned over the endless paperwork on her desk.

"You know how important you showing face at the Lundsteins' wedding is—all that hard work, Sam!"

She pulled the box out of his arms and lowered it to the couch by his side. "Honestly, you know how much I hate those things, can't you go in my place? You look so dapper in a suit."

"Of course I look great in a suit," he said, "but that doesn't excuse you from attending. You have to go." He nodded his head as if agreeing with himself, crossing his arms and puffing out his chest.

Santana knew he was right. Ever since her dramatic breakup with her cheating fiancé and the hush money campaign to keep it from the public eye six months ago, she had been shirking her duties. She needed to show face for the sake of their business or it would flounder, like her unfortunate love life.

"Ugh, fine, I'll consider it."

"Well consider it very seriously, because I already mailed your affirmative reply. You ordered the fish."

"Kurt!" Now it was her turn to scold. "What were you thinking?"

"I was thinking about _you_. And your job, and my job. And how much you need this."

She wanted to argue back for the sake of arguing, but her long day was catching up with her. She leaned wearily against the desk behind her, "Fine. Thank you, Kurt."

He flashed her a bashful smile as he stepped out of the doorway, returning thirty seconds later with a long black dry-cleaner's bag draped over his arm.

"Well, good, because I bought you a new dress for the occasion, and a matching suit for me." He smiled apologetically as he handed her the garment bag.

She didn't know whether to chastise him for his omniscient prediction of her concession or hug him for planning on going with her. She settled for a weary smile and appreciative arm tap as she walked toward the door, flicking off the light and following him to the elevator.

#

The couch was closer than the bedroom and the wine was closer than last night's leftovers, so both won out in Santana's fatigue. She eyed the garment bag draped over the arm of her couch. The dress was probably gorgeous, complementing her olive skin, accentuating her curves. Making her beautiful was Kurt's specialty. It was why he was one of her closest friends, and not just her business partner. He was the only reason she had maintained any sort of professional success of late.

As she settled into the couch, swirling the cabernet sauvignon in her wineglass, she glanced down at her briefcase. Inside were the dossiers of two millionaires looking for their perfect mates, begging for her attention, expecting her to make a feast out of crumbs. Santana and Kurt ran a Boston-based high-end dating service for the blue bloods of the Greater New England area. Many members of the social elite found themselves later in life in search of love, having consistently put their business successes ahead of their personal accomplishments. And one day they—or their elderly parents—realized it was time to start looking for a perfect mate to match their well-manicured lives.

Santana had become known in the matchmaking industry for taking particularly complex clients who were so regimented in their professional lives that fitting another piece into an already established puzzle was nearly impossible. She had practically run her brand on making the impossible possible. Her business, Perfect Match, Inc., was booming. She and Kurt had a waiting list of up to six months for in-office meetings, with webcam interviews slotted out eight to twelve weeks. She had more head shots, essays, applications, and questionnaires to sort through than she knew what to do with.

Trouble was, she couldn't seem to garner the same type of enthusiasm for the business that she had in the past. She pushed Alec's folder aside, reaching for Sheldyn "Shelly" White's instead with a small smile. Shelly was significantly less outgoing than Alec, average in height and weight, sweet natured and quiet. But nerdy, socially awkward in groups of greater than two people, and she struggled to make conversation around beautiful women

Alec and Sheldyn were her two biggest clients and polar opposites, remaining single for a few very different reasons—the handsome but self-consumed prince with a violent temper, and the mild-mannered computer genius with crippling social anxiety. Oh, and each with millions upon millions of dollars at their fingertips.

Santana tossed the file back onto the table, leaned back, and rubbed the bridge of her nose as she reclined on the couch. She rested the wineglass on the table to her right as she slowly pulled off her fake eyelashes and placed them gently on the tabletop. She was done trying to make the impossible possible tonight. It was time to finish her drink and try to sleep, something that for once seemed like it was not far off.

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So, interested? If I get 100 reviews by the end of next week, I will post the next chapter and give away a copy of my new book to one lucky reader. Keep your eyes open for some updates!

xx


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